Heartache of the Soul
by D.K. Dracona
Summary: Tom Riddle's soul can't handle the darkness that is taking over and splits with him. Living a new life with no memories of who he use to be a part of. He struggles to protect the wizarding world from his darker half.
1. The Wrongly Accused

Hey everyone this is not like my first fic at all so don't expect anything like it.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the wonderful characters in it. I wish I did. I also borrowed a lot of text from the second book in this chapter. I want to own it. :: Balls hysterically: So don't sue me I only have pennies and lint in my pockets.  
  
Havoc: One with the fic. Or on with the fic. Whichever you prefer  
  
::Starts banging head on table:: Sure Havoc whatever you want.  
  
Heartache of the Soul  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The Wrongly Accused  
  
Fifty-four years ago  
  
The halls silence of the halls was deafening. The usual chatter of voices gone. No one was outside enjoying the sun on this first week of spring. Fear could be felt in the remote areas of the castle. And in a hall were no one walked alone, a boy nervously made his way.  
  
Tom Marvolo Riddle was almost done with his sixth year in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He absently adjusted his prefect badge. Tall for his age and with jet black hair, he had the haunted look of a boy who had had too much in his young life.  
  
Walking down the corridors Tom noticed that the even the portraits where empty. The entire school had been hiding in their Houses and leaving it only with large groups. The 'incident' had increased the fear that had been growing in the school this whole year.  
  
Tom turned into an older corridor one that seemed to have seen little use these past hundred years at least. Spotting a gargoyle he walked up to it, whispering the password he watched as the gargoyle woke up, and leapt aside allowing Tom to silently slip passed into the tower. Stepping onto the spiraling staircase, Tom was a rack of nerves.  
  
Tom had sent the headmaster a letter earlier this week. And hoped that that was the reason why he had been called. With a slightly hopeful heart Tom knocked on the office door.  
  
"Enter," said a feeble voice.  
  
Tom stepped in taking off his pointed hat. His silver prefect badge glinting on his chest.  
  
"Ah, Riddle."  
  
"You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?" said Tom, feeling rather nervous.  
  
"Sit down," said Dippet, "I've just been reading the letter you sent me."  
  
"Oh," he said his breath caught; maybe the Headmaster would let him. Tom sat down gripping his hands very tightly. He leaned forward slightly as if the answer would decide the future of his entire existence.  
  
"My dear boy," said Dippet kindly. Tom felt his hopes sink. "I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"  
  
"No," Tom said at once, "I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts then go back to that---to that---"  
  
"You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?" Dippet asked curiously.  
  
Tom felt ashamed, 'how many people at the school know?' he asked himself. Realizing the Headmaster was still waiting for a reply he quickly answered. "Yes, sir." He could feel the slight blush and ducked his head. 'How embarrassing, a Slytherin blushing, in front of someone too.'  
  
"You are muggle born?"  
  
"Half-blood, sir," said Tom through clenched teeth. "Muggle father, witch mother."  
  
"And both your parents---?"  
  
"My mother died just after I was born, sir. They told me at the orphanage she lived just long enough to name me ---Tom after my father, Marvolo after my grandfather." Tom said quickly trying to distract Dippet from the subject of his father. He never understood how his mother could fall for a muggle that didn't appreciate that she could possibly have been in love with him. One day he vowed to go find his father and make him understand that it had been he not his mother who was a freak.  
  
Dippet clucked his tongue sympathetically, bringing Tom out of his silent rant and back into the real world.  
  
"The thing is Tom," he sighed, "special arrangements might have been made for you, but under the current circumstances..."  
  
Tom suddenly perked up maybe there was a way. "You mean all these attacks, sir?" said Tom.  
  
"Precisely," said the Headmaster. "My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be to allow you to remain at the castle when the term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy... the death of that poor little girl...You will be far safer by far at your orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school. We are no nearer locating the ---er --- source of all this unpleasantness..."  
  
Tom's eyes widened, if he could just find someone to blame...  
  
"Sir ---if the person were caught--- if it all stopped---"  
  
"What do you mean?" said Dippet with a squeak in his voice, sitting up in his chair. "Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"  
  
"No, sir," Tom said quickly.  
  
Dippet sank back, looking faintly disappointed.  
  
"You may go, Tom...."  
  
Tom sighed in relief, slid off his chair, and slouched out of the room.  
  
Down the spiral staircase he went, emerging next to the gargoyle in the darkening corridor. Tom stopped, he needed someone to blame for opening the Chamber.  
  
Tom felt really guilty all of a sudden. Quickly repressing the feeling, he tried to think of who would be a great scapegoat. Biting his lip, he ran through all the names of the students that were in trouble. His forehead furrowed.  
  
'That's it,' thought Tom as he remembered a second year that had gotten in trouble for having werewolf cubs under his bed last term. The Basilisk had told him of an illegal giant spider that the boy was keeping. Hoping to 'catch' him tonight he hurried off towards the corridor that it was living in.  
  
He didn't see another person until he stepped into the entrance hall, when a tall wizard with long sweeping auburn hair and a beard called to Tom form the marble staircase.  
  
"What are you doing, wandering around this late, Tom?"  
  
"I had to see the Headmaster, sir," said Tom. Professor Dumbledore was the only teacher that didn't really like Tom. Maybe because he used to be a Gryffindor himself and Gryffindor's had always had House prejudice.  
  
"Well hurry off to bed," said Dumbledore, giving Tom a penetrating stare. "Best not to roam the corridors these days, not since..."  
  
He sighed heavily, bade Tom good night, and strode off. Tom watched him walk out of sight and then, moving quickly, headed straight down the stone steps to the dungeons.  
  
Tom quickly positioned himself in his potions classroom leaving the door slightly open so he could see into the hallway. The second year would have to come down this way and soon. Night was always the best time to visit and no one would know. Plus he would have to feed the spider.  
  
The guilty feeling returned and it was slightly stronger. Tom just couldn't shake the feeling that this act was wrong and that he should just stop opening the Chamber of Secrets. Tom tried to push the feeling away, but had a hard time, which grew increasingly worse as the minutes crept on.  
  
For an hour Tom stood at the door, staring through the crack, waiting like a statue. Then he heard a something moving beyond the door and followed.  
  
Someone was creeping along the passage. He heard whoever it was pas him where he was hiding. Tom, quick as a shadow, edged through the door and followed.  
  
For perhaps five minutes he followed the footsteps until Tom stopped suddenly, his head inclined in the direction of the new noises. He heard a door creak open, and then someone speaking in a hoarse whisper.  
  
"C'mon...gotta get yeh outta here... C'mon now... in the box..."  
  
Tom took a deep breath and jumped around the corner; a part of him screaming not to do it. But Tom wouldn't listen and raced through his plan without a second glance. He could see the dark outline of a huge boy who was crouching in front of an open door, a very large box next to it.  
  
"Evening, Rubeus," said Tom sharply. A voice inside him started to plead for him to stop before it was too late. But Tom refused to listen.  
  
The boy slammed the door shut and stood up.  
  
"What are you doin' down here Tom?"  
  
Tom stepped closer, still ignoring the voice telling him to stop.  
  
"It's all over," he said, "I'm going to turn you in, Rubeus. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop."  
  
"What d'yeh---"  
  
"I don't think you meant to kill anyone. But monsters don't really make good pets. I suppose you just let it out for exercise and---" the voice started to cry silently repeating 'how could you?' Tom tried not to show his inter struggle on his face, grateful not for the first time that he had learned to hide his emotions.  
  
"It killed no one!" roared the large boy, backing against the closed door. From behind him, Tom could hear a funny rustling and clicking.  
  
"Come on, Rubeus," said Tom moving yet closer. "The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Hogwarts could do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered..." The voice had stopped speaking and just sobbed as Tom continued his self-righteous speech.  
  
"It wasn't him!" roared the boy his voice echoing in the dark passage. "He wouldn't! He never!"  
  
"Stand aside," said Tom, drawing out his wand. He was now ignoring the sobs completely, unable to push them out.  
  
His spell lit the corridor with a sudden flaming light. The door behind the large boy flew open with such force it knocked him into the wall.  
  
A vast, low-slung, hairy body and a tangle of block legs, a gleam of many eyes and a pair of raiser-sharp pincers--- Tom raised his wand again, but the huge boy leapt on him, seized his wand and threw him back down, yelling, "NOOOOOOO!"  
  
Tom landed painfully on his arm. Looking around quickly he spotted his wand a meter away and rolled towards it. His hand landed on his wand and he snatched it up and quickly got to his knees, but to late the giant spider was gone. Turning quickly back to the boy he shot off a stunning spell.  
  
Rubeus never saw the spell that hit him and a second later crumpled, unconscious, to the floor.  
  
Tom stood slowly checking over himself for any injuries. There were bruises all along his left arm where he had fallen on it but there seemed to be nothing else. Walking over to the unconscious twelve year-old he silently levitated him and started towards the headmaster's office.  
  
The voice started speaking again not pleading with himself anymore but apologizing to Rubeus and silently crying.  
  
Tom felt a small split appear in his soul almost as if a part of himself had died.  
  
For the second time that night Tom Riddle knocked on the door to the Headmaster's Office. After a few moments the door opened and a sleepy Professor Dippet looked at Tom. Seeing the hovering body of Rubeus Dippet's eyes widened and he quickly let them in.  
  
"Why isn't he down in the infirmary?" Dippet asked.  
  
Tom looked at Dippet sadly. "Professor I caught the one who opened the Chamber and let the attacks happen."  
  
Dippet was suddenly wide awake. "How do you know it was him?"  
  
"I was depressed after I left your office earlier and I couldn't sleep so I decided to do my prefect rounds and see if anyone was out after curfew. I found Rubeus holding a box and talking to someone I couldn't see. When I confronted him a giant spider came out and knocked me over then ran out. I'm afraid, sir that I was unable to kill it.  
  
"I stunned Rubeus and brought him straight here." Tom could still here the voice pleading with him to tell the truth, that this was a horrible mistake, but Tom was too far into it now that even if he had wanted to he couldn't have changed what he had said and done.  
  
Dippet stared at Tom. "Thank you Tom. I will call a meeting with the other professors in the school." Looking up at Tom he thought he saw the smallest hint of stress. 'He probably is still in shock that he was the one who found the culprit, poor child.'  
  
"Tom I think you should return to your dormitories and try to get some sleep. I will call you in the morning after and have you tell your side of the story to the council."  
  
Looking over at the Headmaster leaning over the unconscious form of the second year, Tom nodded and turned to leave. His last look as he closed the door was of the headmasters telling the portraits of the old Headmasters to get the staff.  
  
Tom made his way to the Slytherin Dormitories, through silent halls. Reaching the empty expanse of wall that marked the Slytherin Dormitory entrance Tom whispered the password and walked to his rooms.  
  
Tom didn't sleep well that night. When he woke up the next morning the only thing he remembered were the silent sobs of one who was losing their soul. 


	2. The Consequence of Betrayal

Hey everyone! Sorry for taking so long to update.

Sorry about the first few chapters they are really just for background. Harry will show up in either the next chapter or the one after that. I promise.

Thanks to my three reviewers.

Havoc: Disclaimer: Dracona does Not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in it. They belong to J.K.Rowling.

Enjoy the fic!

Warning: There is death in this chapter.

* * *

Heartache of the Soul. 

Chapter 2

The Consequence of Betrayal

Fifty-two years ago.

A slight wind swept through the village of Little Hangleton carrying a black crow slowly towards the manor over looking the village. It lazily watched as the lights turned on and the smells of dinner swirled through the air. It descended on the ledge of the upper drawing room window of the mansion as four people entered.

"Clarissa, tell the servants that they are dismissed. I want a quiet evening and I can't have that with you and the other servants pounding everywhere you go! I get such a dreadful headache because of it." The maid nodded her head as she turned to face them.

"Will there be anything else Mrs. Riddle?"

"No." turning towards the younger of the two men with her she said, "Tom, would you be so kind to push me closer to the fire, there is a draft in this room."

As movement caught the crow's eyes, it crocked its head slightly and looked under the swaying branches of the willow tree. It watched as the wind moved the branches to block the center of the tree then obscure the view. The next time the swaying branches retreated a young man stood at the center with dark hair and a black cloak.

The when the branches showed the center again it was empty as if the dark haired boy had never been. If the crow was surprised its only reach was a slight blink.

* * *

Tom aparated to one of the few covered areas in the gardens of the mansion. He thought it appropriate that the tree was a weeping willow for few others would shed tears this night. 

He silently slipped into the shadows and crept passed hedges and a small shed. Placing his steps carefully so as not to make noise, Tom missed seeing the young man that was walking towards the shed until to late, the young gardener had spotted him sneaking around.

Fortunately the gardener tripped and looked away giving Tom just enough time to quickly step into the shadows cast by the mansion as the sun made its final farewell to the village in a spectacular display of red fire.

Tom found the entrance of the mansion behind counseling vines of ivy. It soon became apparent that the door was locked, but when had muggle technology ever bested magical infiltration spells.

"Alohomora!"

Quietly entering into the cavernous kitchen that was illuminated only by the embers of the dying cooking fires. He quickly left the kitchen entering into a hallway. Using shadows to move through the house.

Tom crept through the halls using a "Point Me" spell to find out where his father was. "Please." Part of his soul cried. "No, don't do this. There has to be another way."

Tom ignored the urge to leave. The voice had dimmed from the betrayal of Rubeus Hagrid. Lessening more as he betrayed one person after another.

After a few dead ends Tom found the room his father was in. He paused to listen in case there was someone in there with him in the room. His suspicion was confirmed when he heard a male voice on the other side of the door. Tom began move away from the door to wait for a time when his father was alone when the conversation on the other side of the door halted him mid step. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he realized who was on the other side.

"…Tom, dear pass the sugar." Said an old female voice. After a pause and some shuffling Tom heard something that he had never heard in his life.

The voice of his father.

"Here Mother."

"Now Tom," his grandmother said, "I've been looking into prospective wives for you. You need to have an heir."

"Yes son. You've put it off long enough."

"Now. There are Madam Elaine's two daughters…"

Tom stopped listening; his father and his grandparents were in the next room. All those who had betrayed him stood not twenty meters from him with only a wall between them. The ones who had left him in a muggle orphanage, who refused to acknowledge him at all. Those he had come to extract revenge on. Taking a deep breath and forcefully ignoring the dim voice begging him to stop, Tom pushed the door of the drawing room open.

"Hello, Father."

The three people in the room jerked around staring at the black haired teen in front of them.

"Grandfather. Grandmother." He said bowing to each in turn.

They all stared at him in horror, quivering under his heartless gaze.

"My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. I'm telling you because I know that you don't know it. Mother wanted me to be named after the Filth that deserted her when she told him what she was."

"T-t-t-tom?" His father sputtered, staring at Tom as though he were a ghost or the grim reaper. In a way that was exactly what he was, a ghost of the past and the one to collect his dues.

His grandmother having regained her composure glared at her grandson. "Get out of my house!"

Tom looked at her, a smirk forming on his lips. "I will leave…. Once I'm done.

"Grandfather, you seem unusually quiet." His grandfather glared at him refusing to speak.

"I've come to meet you before your deaths. For all who betray me will die, and you my dear family, have committed the ultimate betrayal. I was never an orphan but I was put in an orphanage, because you left me. Refused to even acknowledge my existence. Me! The heir of Slytherin!"

The muggles finally realized what the boy in black was implying. Terror flashed across their faces and their backs pressed against the chairs as they tried to move as far from him while still in the chairs.

"Goodbye. _Adava Kedavra!_"

A flash of green light illuminated the room. Once it had passed the three Riddles lay slumped in their chairs, dead.

Tom didn't know how long he stood there looking at them. He was pulled out of his revere by a small splash. Looking down he saw two small puddles near his feet. His hand reached up to feel his face and was surprised to find his cheeks wet.

Why was he crying?

He heard an anguished sob in his mind growing dimmer and the tears continued to fall.

The break in his soul grew.


	3. The Ultimate Sin

"The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."

Firenze

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's (Philosopher's) Stone.

Page 258.

Chapter 3.

Tom closed yet another book and sighed. Still nothing. He had been in the Ministry Library for a little more then a week, looking through the millions of books and scrolls for any hint of how to gain immortality, and so far he had found nothing.

Tom rubbed the bridge of his nose wondering if it would be better to continue the search in Knockturn Alley. Although last time had not proved any better then this library. Reaching over he pulled a large stack of books over that had looked promising.

He took the first book from the top careful of its old pages and silver cracking leather binding. He had found the books from this pile in an old unused corner of the library that looked as if it hadn't been touched in centuries. Knowing the Ministry they probably hadn't. None of the books had Titles, but the magic around was foreboding and few wizards liked reading books that made you feel as if you were the one being read instead of them.

Tom turned the pages scanning for any passage that might even remotely be speaking about immortality. Halfway through the book though he felt as if he should just give up and move on to the next one. 'A few more pages.' He told himself. 'Just a few more if there is nothing then I will look at another one.' But the more pages that passed the more he wanted to look at a different one. Finally giving it up as hopeless, Tom set the book down away from all the rest and began searching the others in his pile, making notes every now and then at something that sounded as if it might help.

Around midnight Tom sighed as he turned the last page of the last book in his pile to search. Nothing. Again. There had to be something, anything. Tom stood up and silently put the books away one by one to their appropriate areas. He headed back to the table he had been sitting at for a few weeks now, to pick up his quills and parchments before he left, and he saw that one book had not been put away yet.

The silver leather book that he had been unable to finish sat at the far left corner away from all the ones he was looking at and the ones he had finished which he usually put on the table beside him. Looking at it Tom remembered the feeling of hopelessness when he had tried to read it. And also the fact that it was the only book that he had searched thus far that he hadn't looked through completely.

Tom slowly sat back in the chair he had secretly claimed as his. The book unopened before his eyes.

Slowly so as not to bend or break the fragile pages, Tom opened it to the page that he had last read. His eyes scanned the passage in front of him. Silently he turned the page and found the first hint of real information he had yet seen about immortality in his months of searching.

Though few can achieve or understand the implications of immortality many search for it even today. Godric often tells me that I shouldn't seek it but something within me wants to know if it is possible. Is there some way for the weak humans though we are, to gain something no one else has? For wizards are just extraordinary humans. Though many think that 'Muggles' are only untalented wizards. And some a different race completely. I know I once thought so.

Tom exhaled the breath he had been holding. There was someone like him.

How could he have overlooked this book? Turning the pages back Tom searched the pages for something that might have caused him to feel that it was useless. An ancient spell, maybe. He searched for the words that could of caused the spell but found nothing. His eyes traveled over the pages, and he suddenly held the book far away from him, his eyes unfocused on the words. Slowly a pattern formed from the text. There was a ruin made with mundane words as a way to hide itself from roaming eyes. Tom smiled to himself as he recognized one of the ancient Ruins that hadn't been used since before Hogwarts came to be.

Trivial matters, the ruins said running across the pages of the book.

Nothing written here matters.

The thing you search for is not here.

Search elsewhere.

Tom smiled. He had finally found what he was looking for. Picking up his supplies he cast a Shrinking spell and placed them all in his pocket. He held the book to his chest. Walking up to the remaining librarian, he set the book down carefully.

"I'm taking this one with me tonight."

The librarian smiled. "Finally found something, Tom? You haven't borrowed a book for a few weeks now although you did when you first started coming here."

Tom smiled politely, although he was annoyed that this was taking so long. He wanted to study this book as soon as he could. In private preferably.

"Yes I finally did, just some light reading though. Not exactly what I wanted but I thought that I might read it while I continued my search."

The witch nodded her glasses sliding down her nose, and began writing down a description of the book, muttering to herself. "Title? None. Cover? Sliver. Author? …"

She quickly flipped through the book not really reading anything until she reached the end of the book. "No author mentioned. Hmm…" Her eyes, scanning the handwriting in the book, suddenly widened. "It couldn't possibly…"

She set the book down and began rummaging through some books beside her. Pulling out an old worn book, with a purple cover, and the title "The making of Hogwarts" In bronze letters at the top. She flipped to the center of the book and started going over the words written there. Without turning around she grabbed the book Tom had hand her and opened it to a random page, her eyes flickering between the two pages.

Smiling, suddenly she handed the book to Tom, and wrote down 'Author? Salazar Slytherin.'

"Where did you get find that book? I thought I had read all the books written by the Founders."

Tom smiled. "You will just have to find out later."

Nodding politely he quickly left the Ministry Library.

I think I may have found the answer I was looking for. But the price may be more then it is worth. I discovered a potion that will stave off death for a thousand years. But the partaker does not keep his younger body he shall age as the rest and be unable to die. To live for a thousand years in a body that is unable to move is more punishment then reward. The partaker will only die if hit by a strong Killing Curse although if the caster is weak the spell will not work but reflect back on the caster. Only those of stronger magical power then the partaker can cast the spell without it bouncing back. The inventor Agratagan Manoke will be a thousand today. His life is finally over. The relief in his eyes to know that in a few days he will have passed on is horrible to see. The potion must have another step for the caster to maintain their youth or if aged already to regain it. I will not try this until the spell has been found.

The potion instructions are as follows:

Vampires' fang.

5 Drops of Werewolf's blood taken on the night of the full moon.

3 Phoenix tears frozen for one year, and thawed just before use.

All the Venom drained from a Basilisk's fang.

And the 2 scales from a thousand year old Basilisk's shed skin.

The breath of a dementor.

A strand of hair from a siren's head.

13 drops of the users' own heart-blood.

The essence of a boggart.

Place the dementor's breath in a silver cauldron. And add one Phoenix tear under the full moon. Stir thirteen times counterclockwise then let it brew for seven hours three minutes and thirteen seconds any shorter and the potion will turn to water. Any longer and the potion will evaporate into the air and poison anyone with in one thousand meters. Then add the three drops of the Werewolf's blood. And allow the potion to boil for nineteen minute, from the time it begins to boil. Crush the Vampire's fang and place on a golden platter. Take the boiling potion and pour it over the powder. (The fang must be freshly crushed or the potion will turn to acid.) The potion will turn bluish silver closely resembling a unicorn's blood. Let the potion solidify, this will take two days.

Clean the potion from the silver cauldron using one drop of Phoenix tears, two drops of Werewolf blood, and three drops of the partaker's blood.

Slice the solidified potion into five equal pieces. Make sure they are equal any variation will cause the Basilisk venom to retain it's poisonous quality and kill the partaker within seconds of consumption.

Place the two basilisk scales parallel inside the cauldron with one slice of the completed potion between the two scales and one on the other side of each. Retain the last two slices for the end of the potion. Pour all the Basilisk venom into the silver cauldron. There will come a cloud of blood red smoke. Do not breath it in. Once the smoke has cleared. Which will only take a few seconds, stir in seven drops of the partaker's blood. Then simmer the potion until midnight of the next full moon.

Once the clock strikes midnight place the Siren's hair in the cauldron being careful not to allow it to touch the silver cauldron, as this will neutralize the potion.

Chill until the next full moon. The potion will be onyx black.

In a small bronze potions bottle put the remaining Phoenix tear, add the essence of boggart. Stopper the bottle with a rowan stopper and shake the bottle seventeen times.

Open the bottle and stir in the last three drops of the Partakers blood.

Slowly pour the bottled potion into the silver cauldron in the form of a pentacle.

Then stir clockwise twelve times.

Leave at room temperature for two months then drink.

I will find a spell that will allow me to use this.

Today I think I found the spell that I need. It's actually a ruin not a spell. But you must write it in the air with you wand as you say it then write it on the floor around you in your blood. .

The spell was said to back fire and kill many of it's creators when done wrong. The wizards that succeeded now live but half-lives. They found a way to counter the death caused by a mistake. But few would be willing to pay the price.

The wizards that survived have all drunken of a unicorn's blood. This allowed them to do the spell multiple times without suffering death when they made mistakes. For not one was able to correctly complete the spell the first time.

Their lives but half of what they would have been, for to drink a unicorn's blood tears your soul in two.

None has ever found their other half.

The Ruin is the incomplete part of the potion. It allows you to retain your youth or regain it. Although it will not give you a new body for it takes the essence of what you were. It also surpasses the potion and heightens the effect of the potion, which may allow you to be Immortal. Although no one can be sure as no one has yet to combine the two.

I do not know if I shall try the potion, as I don't know if I would care to be alive while all around me perish and leave me. To be so utterly alone scares me more then I care to admit.

But for those who would brave loneliness, use your Immortality wisely. Please do not use my works for revenge, for what would you do once your revenge had been completed?

Be forewarned that the consequences of your actions will affect you for the rest of your existence. For who can call a life a life when you are unable to die?

Salazar Slytherin

Tom turned the page to find the Ruin Slytherin had written of but found only a single page of blank parchment. A few charms showed more then one concealment spell along with a few illusion charms to hide the Ruin.

Deciding to leave the removal of those spells till tomorrow, Tom set the book down and retreated to his bedroom. A flick of his wand to light the candles and a quick look around reveled that no one had entered the room since he had last been here. Silver mirrors reflected the entire room to Tom as he stepped through the door. The forest green walls and drapes contradicted the pale light cast by the dozens silver candles. His thick dark red carpet deadened the sound of his footsteps as he made his way to his enormous bed. Quickly changing out of his robes he fell into his bed and fell into an exhausted sleep as he had been rising early and going to bed late since his search for immortality began.

As he slept Tom heard a voice quietly whispering 'Please Tom, don't seek immortality. I'm afraid that if you do I will be lost.'

Tom waved his wand over the last page of the manuscript, one last time. Finally after four days removed the last concealment spell.

Determined are you?

You shall not find the Ruin here. Search for my rival's journal, for only he would entrust my discovery to another. His posterity guard it well be warned. Search among arcane dangers and domestic spells for who would expect immortality to be hidden in plain sight?

Be warned though of harming those who hold the secret for danger lies along that path. For if you are an heir to me our fates lie intertwined till last.

Though silver showed the way to go, it cannot work without the gold.

Tom's eyes blazed with fury. How could this happen? And when he was so close. Tom tried to calm himself down. And as he thought about it a smirk crept onto his lips. It was a simple riddle. All he had to do was find the descendants of Gryffindor and he would find the Ruin.

Finding Gryffindor's descendants proved harder then he had first though. They changed names frequently and many of the direct lines died off. Currently there were two that he was looking into seriously. One was Alexander Potters line. And one was Christopher Griffith. The Griffith line though soon faded into a Squib line and changed names again to Harper.

Tom put those records aside as useless, and started concentrating on the Potter's line. Delphinus Potter was the head of the family currently, his son Perseus had been in first year during Tom's sixth year. They were a proud family and most had been sorted into Gryffindor with the exception of a few that went either to Ravenclaw or the very rear one that went to Slytherin. They considered few to be their equal and believed in justice and right for all. One of the few purebloods that accepted all wizards and witches from mudbloods to purebloods to half-bloods, if he remembered correctly they had some half-blood blood in their line. They were one of the most trusted families in the wizarding world, and one of the most guarded. For wizards that were suppose to accept everyone they were extremely paranoid.

It would not be easy to access their vault. That is once he found out which of their vaults it was in. The Potters were extremely rich and each generation just seemed to add to that wealth. With a sigh he grabbed his jade cloak and left the genealogy section of the ministry behind.

He had a few favors to call in.

The next few months was spent calling in favors from his many acquaintances, many of who had won bets with the goblins and still hadn't called in the favor. He soon found out that there were two hundred ninety-seven vaults that belonged to the Potter family. This task was beginning to look impossible but he was determined.

Looking at the blueprints of how to get to them, which he had also acquired from the goblins, he started searching for the most likely vault that it would be in. Going by the riddle he had found in Salazar Slytherins journal he knew that it had to be in one of the more used vaults. This reduced the vaults to search and it now rested at thirteen vaults but he was still unable to cross out more then that without knowing what was in them.

It looked like he would have to go and search them himself. Now he just had to find out how to get into them without arousing suspicion or setting off alarms.

The security had been easier to get passed then Tom had expected. The sleeping potion had worked on any creature that was set to guard the vaults. Also the invisibility cloak and the Notice Me not charms helped him pass some of the less intricate traps. And to avoid the last traps he had used a spell that covered magical signatures and an unplotable charm on himself.

Standing in front of one of the Potter vaults he pulled out a ring of keys. These were replicas of the keys the Head of the Potter family keep on him when he had come to visit his son at Hogwarts.

Tom had been on his way to have a visit with the Headmaster at the time. He had had a run in with him, literally and had been able to pickpocket him and get molds of both the keys and the magical signatures on them before he put them back.

Thumbing through the various keys he found an iron one that seemed the size of the keyhole and went in.

This was the fifth vault he had searched. The others proved to be just piles of galleons, sickles and knuts. When the smoke had cleared away Tom was ecstatic to see that this vault had journals and books in it.

Hours later he came out with copies of about fifty books that looked promising. Some were histories others family cookbooks and other volumes that looked as if they had been around for many generations.

Tom searched through the books for the next few days trying to find the ruin that Slytherin spoke of. He found a few symbols through out the volumes that looked as if they could possibly be what he was speaking of. Writing them down he again returned to the Ministry Library to see if he could find out what they meant.

He spent most of his days searching and by the end of the second week had crossed off seventeen ruins as either not so common ruins, or obscure protection ruins.

It took him almost a month to finally bring it down to five ruins, two of which were part of the family crest.

Sighing in frustration Tom set aside the volume was reading and picked up his copy of the Griffindor family trees in the hopes of seeing something he has perhaps missed. His eyes skimmed down the page till about the third name change that Griffindor's second son line went through. They had changed again their name to Flamel, which went down the tree, and there was at least one descendent still alive if the red ink on the tree was any indication. One Nicholas Flamel… If Tom remembered right he had come to visit the Transfiguration Professor during his last year at Hogwarts.

Toms head shot up and he shot out of his chair and started searching the bookshelf behind him in his own library. He had received a present from Alphonse Malfoy for graduation on lectures and theories for transfigurations, potions and charms that had included many cross lectures between the subjects including many from Nicholas Flamel, his most common the mixing of Transfigurations and Potions in new and arcane ways.

Flipping towards the middle of the book he skimmed over the lectures looking for some common phrase or symbol. After flipping through a few he found that each of Flamels signatures on them had in them a crossed snake. Walking back to the desk that he had the ruins on. He searched to see which had one part of it similar to that. Only two of the symbols resembled it. One of which was on the family crest. That one was the exact opposite of the one that Flamel used to sign with. As the snakehead at the end of the cross, turned to the right instead of the left.

The last symbol was one that was mentioned a few times but more in spell books and cookbooks, was of a circle that had unusual markings in it.

There was also another symbol that was mentioned more then once. It was the symbol for the syllable hon in Japanese.

Flipping through one of the journals that he had found Tom came across another page similar to the one in Slytherin's journal that had many spells covering it. Tom slowly uncovered the spells and found a small explanation.

My dear descendents,

Please keep these symbols safe for they are the symbols needed for a spell that should never be used. Please never put these symbols together when making family crest or other similar structures.

We have three symbols to use in our family relics that must never intermix then for disaster would happen. Please keep these safe.

Godric Gryffindor

Tom sighed in relief at finally finding what it was he needed. He now knew which three he would have to pick between. He could eliminate Flamel's signature as he had only reversed the one that was mentioned. He also took out the squared symbol that he had also found.

So Gryffindor had to be talking about mixing two of the symbols left: the hon kanji, the circle and he crossed snake. There were six possible combinations to create the proper ruin that he would need for him to gain immortality.

Now he only had one option left, to try them out. And that meant only one thing….

Tom wrapped his cloak around him tightly to keep of the cold wind of the winter equinox. Tom had searched for all known Unicorn locations in England and while there were surprisingly many they usually only had a small herd and were extremely hard to find. The one were one could find Unicorns more often unfortunately was somewhere that Tom wanted to avoid if at all possible.

The Forbidden Forest. It wasn't for the fact that Tom was afraid of the forest but it was much to close to Hogwarts, where Dumbledore had recently become Headmaster, for his tastes.

The trees around him were steadily getting bigger and the foliage was getting thicker also making it hard to walk through it.. Fortunately Tom was following a path that was made by a unicorn. From the looks of the markings he would say that it was a foal. Tom would prefer to catch an adult but if this trail didn't lead to one he was willing to use the foal at the end of the trial.

He had been wondering for a few hours already and was beginning to think that he might not find one by the time the sun went up. He keep following the trail and almost walked into the clearing. He realized it just two steps away from revealing himself by going into the clearing and crouched down behind a tree just off the path.

The clearing was filled with the light of a waning moon which reflected off the pond. The water seemed to be in vibrating in the wind. Tom gasped when he realized that the pond wasn't moving in the wind but was moving from a group of three unicorns bathing in it.

Tom was almost reluctant to ruin the scene in front of him so watched the three playing. He couldn't tell if he stood there for just a few minutes or if he stood there for hours. He finally came out of his daze when he realized that they were leaving and were already running to the opposite side of the clearing.

He was just about to follow them when, out of the corner of his eye he saw movement and paused. The moonlight illuminated the pure white coat of the Unicorn that came out. It strode majestically toward the small beach and leaned down to get a drink.

Tom gathered his courage and stood up his wand outstretched and the curse on his lip.

"Avada Kedavra!" Tom yelled. The flash of green light struck the Unicorn and it fell to the ground, water lapping around it. A part of Tom screamed in protest of what he had done but Tom almost couldn't hear it anymore. He hesitated a moment but walked to the creature that lay still in the water. Kneeling down facing the unicorn Tom pulled out of his robes a ceremonial dagger. His hands shook as he lowered it to the neck and cut a slit into it. Pushing his hair back from his face Tom leaned down and drank the blood that was dripping down.

Tom felt a pain so unbearable it was as if someone was tearing his soul in half.

Then the world turned black.


End file.
